A Matter of Minutes
by JudyL068
Summary: What if Blair hadn't made it to the hospital?


A Matter of Minutes

By JudyL

December 2, 2004

This story was inspired by the sight of a man walking through a parking lot. Now I don't know who this man was or what his state of living is, but he seemed to possibly be down on his luck, maybe homeless. Anyway, for some reason I thought 'what if…' and this story was born. Enjoy

Spoilers for The Switchman, Siege, The Killers, and The Debt.

Warnings: This is an alternate beginning.

Disclaimers: Nope, I don't own 'em, would love to, but can't afford it.

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><p>Blair Sandburg raced through the hospital halls praying he wasn't too late. <em>Damn car.<em> His classic had been acting up again, stalling four times on his way to what he hoped would be an introduction to his 'Holy Grail.' Beth's tip that this detective showed signs of five heightened senses was a godsend. Now if only he could see the man before he left the hospital.

Blair hastily straightened the white lab coat that he'd _borrowed_ and checked the room number on the clipboard against the one on the door. _This is it!_ He opened the door and walked in only to stop at the sight before him. Certainly this man wasn't Detective Ellison.

The older man in a white lab coat frowned thoughtfully at the young man in the doorway. "May I help you son?"

"Uh, I was looking for Detective Ellison's room," Blair stammered.

"Oh, you just missed him," the doctor replied.

_Damn!_ Blair sighed. "Thanks," he said half-heartedly as he backed out of the room. _So much for my Holy Grail._

**Cascade PD, Captain Banks' office**

Detective Jim Ellison paced the floor in front of his superior's desk.

"I just don't understand, Jim," Simon Banks replied with no little frustration. "If the doctor gave you a clean bill of health, what's the problem? Why are you wanting a leave of absence?"

"Simon," Jim sighed just as frustrated, "that whole thing with the Switchman was a fluke. If she hadn't wanted to take me with her, all those people would have died!"

"But they didn't Jim. And you found the bomb before it went off," Simon reminded him.

"But HOW? Simon, _how_ did I find the bomb?" Jim threw his hands up into the air and continued pacing. "There wasn't time to do a thorough search, Simon. But somehow I _heard_ it ticking from the front of the bus and I knew where it was. That's not normal!"

"Sounds pretty useful to me," Simon replied softly.

Jim let out a loud sigh and sank into a nearby chair. "Sure, in this case, but it's like all of my senses are on overdrive." He looked at his captain then past him and nodded his head toward the wall. "Take your clock there, can you hear it ticking?"

Banks turned to look at the clock and after a few seconds of silence he answered. "Yes, Jim, I can hear it ticking."

Ellison nodded. "From three feet away and when the room is quiet. I can hear it from here while we're talking. Sounds like a damn drum right now." He rubbed between his eyes at the headache forming there. "And it's not just sound. My sight, senses of smell and taste, and even touch are all way off. It's getting to the point that I can't think straight for all the input."

Simon regarded his friend. "You told this to the doctors and they couldn't find anything?" he asked concerned.

Jim shook his head. "I left out the fact that sometimes my clothes feel like sandpaper and the rain… they were starting to look at me funny." He stopped and rubbed his hand over his face. "Am I going crazy Simon?"

"Crazy people don't ask questions like that Jim," Simon assured. "So what do you want to do?"

Ellison looked up and met his eyes. "I want to take some time off, do some research, see if I can find an expert somewhere that can help me. I don't trust myself on the streets this way Simon."

"Okay," Simon sighed. "How long are we talking here?"

Jim shrugged. "I don't know, maybe a month. It all depends on what I can find."

**One month later**

Blair limped into the whole foods store and grinned at the older woman behind the counter.

"Blair! Are you all right?" Theadora Wilson came around the end of the counter to give Blair a hug. "I heard about what happened. You could have been killed."

"I'm good, Theo. Thank you so much for this," he pulled gently out of the hug as he explained. "I've been catching every odd job I can. I had borrowed a school video camera for my project and it and almost everything else I own was damaged in the explosion."

"I'm glad it was only _things_ that were destroyed, boy," Theo said gently touching his bruised cheekbone. "Although from the look of you, you didn't escape unscathed."

Blair shrugged. "I was lucky, just a few bumps and bruises. My ape was killed when part of the roof fell on his cage. I owe the University for him too."

"That hardly seems fair," Theo said moving back to the counter.

He followed her. "Well, he was my responsibility. Anyway, this job will help. Thanks again for the offer Theo."

"No problem, honey." She handed him a piece of paper with an address on it. "First thing I need you to do is deliver this order to a customer. He's house bound and pays extra to have us deliver."

Blair looked at the address. It wasn't too far from the store. "Okay, where's the order?"

"Come on, I'll show you."

Blair hummed along to the radio as he headed toward his destination. Fortunately his car had not been damaged in the explosion that demolished the warehouse he'd been renting. The gash in his leg had been caused by a piece of falling debris after the explosion and required twenty stitches to close. The black eye was from hitting the coffee table during the explosion. All in all, Theo was correct, Blair was lucky to be alive.

He turned onto Prospect and wondered at the order he was delivering. It mostly consisted of bottled spring water, some organically grown fruits, vegetables and meats, and a few pounds of rice. Pretty healthy actually and a lot better than Blair was eating these days on his limited budget, but why couldn't the guy pick it up himself. Theo hadn't been too informative.

_Oh well, I'm sure I'll find out when I get there._

Jim adjusted the shades to allow the minimum amount of morning sun into the loft. After the sun passed zenith he could open the shades again, but until that point it was just too painful for him. He glanced around and realized he had finished his morning chores already. Of course, how long did it take to clean an already spotless space?

The last few weeks had been busier than he'd thought they would be. After taking his leave of absence he'd almost spent more time at work than before the leave. What with Kincaide's surprise attack on the station and then Danny's death. Jim sighed.

It turned out to be a good thing that he wasn't in the station the day Kincaide took over. Between him and Simon, they'd managed to get in and rescue the hostages, although Kincaide had gotten away.

And they still had no idea who shot Danny Choi. Obviously he'd been made while undercover and then shot during his meet with Jim. Danny had died in Jim's arms. Jim suspected Tommy Juno. The hit matched Juno's MO, but no one had seen the shooter. Jim had lost time in one of those weird black outs. It had only been Simon's firm shake that brought him to his senses some time later.

He glanced at the clock again. _Guess I could watch a little TV._ Jim frowned at the set and grabbed a book instead. The last time he'd turned on the television he'd lost three hours. _I'll just read for a bit, then I can lift some weights._ He sat on the couch and opened the book Carolyn had given him for Christmas last year. _Now at last I'll have a chance to read it._

A familiar scent wafted up from the pages distracting Jim from the words. _What is that? I know that smell._

Blair lugged the first two cartons into the elevator and pushed the button. The water was heavy. _How many gallons does one guy need anyway? _He shook his head. _Should have borrowed the dolly, could have wheeled most of it up in one trip then. Oh well._ The elevator came to a stop and Blair exited onto the third floor.

"307," he said to himself as he checked the numbers on the nearest doors and headed down the hall in the correct direction. "Here we are." Blair set one of the cartons down and knocked. After a few moments he frowned and knocked again. "Thought the guy was house bound," he mumbled. "Theo seemed to think he'd be here."

He listened at the door and knocked again. "Hello! Anybody home? Delivery from Wholesome Family Foods." Blair listened but didn't hear anything from inside. "I hope he's okay. Ah, man, what if he's had a heart attack or fallen and hit his head?"

Sandburg put his hand on the doorknob then hesitated. He grimaced then tried it._ Locked_. _Of course._ "Now what?"

He looked up for inspiration and grinned as he ran his fingers along the top of the doorframe. A frown quickly replaced the grin. No key. Blair knocked again louder this time. "Hey! Are you okay in there? Mister? Hello?"

Nothing. Blair nibbled on his lip thoughtfully. He recalled seeing a fire escape, maybe he could see into the apartment from there. He left the groceries by the door and hobbled quickly back outside.

Half way up the fire escape Blair looked down and had to stop and collect himself. _This is way above and beyond the call Sandburg. You're just supposed to deliver the man's groceries_. He closed his eyes briefly then took a deep breath and continued up.

He reached the third floor and found a door with a window, but the window was shuttered. He knocked on this door and called out again hoping the occupant might hear him. The result was the same as before. Blair jiggled the door and raised his eyebrows in surprise. It didn't seem as sturdy as the front door. _Maybe I can jimmy the lock._

Using his Swiss Army knife he was able to open the lock and the door. Blair stood looking into the hallway before him for several moments. "Hello? Sir? Are you okay?" he called hoping for an answer. "Okay, I'm coming in to help you. I don't have a weapon," he looked down at his pocketknife and hastily stuffed it into his pant pocket. "I come in peace."

_Oh that's good, I come in peace_. He rolled his eyes as he slowly and cautiously moved down the hall. "Helloooo," he sing-songed. The hall opened into a kitchen with a high vaulted ceiling, beyond that was more open space. He could see a man sitting very still on a couch at the other end of the room. "Hello," Blair repeated. "I'm here to deliver your groceries. Are you okay?"

Still not getting a response, Blair moved over to the sitting area. _God, I hope he's not dea_d. He almost closed his eyes to avoid seeing what he feared as he rounded the end of the couch. What he saw surprised him, but was much better than a dead body.

A well-built man in his early to mid-thirties sat with an open book on his lap. The man's blue eyes stared sightlessly across the room. His jaw hung slack.

Blair looked around for some sign of a wheelchair or crutches, anything to indicate why the man wouldn't or couldn't venture from his home. He sighed. _Maybe he has seizures. Is that what's happened here?_

He sat on the coffee table in front of the man and watched for a few long moments to make sure he was breathing. With a sigh of relief Blair reached out and gently touched the man's arm. "Hey, time to wake up, big guy."

Nothing.

"Okay…" Blair breathed trying to figure out what was going on. He snapped his fingers by the man's ear speaking loudly at the same time. "Come on man. I have a job to get back to. Wake up. Hello!"

Nothing.

Blair leaned in closer to look into the man's eyes and accidentally jostled his knees causing the book to slide. Blair caught the book and closed it setting it beside him on the table. He then reached up and gingerly tapped the man on the side of the face. "Time to wake up, big guy."

The result was explosive. The blue eyes blinked and suddenly sparked with life again. They focused on Blair and narrowed as the man grabbed Blair's arm and twisted. Blair had two choices, let his arm be broken or turn and maybe just end up with at sprain. He turned.

The big man shoved Blair face down onto the coffee table and leaned over him catching a handful of hair with his other hand.

"Who the hell are you? And what are you doing in my home?" the soft but menacing tenor asked.

"Whoa! Chill out man! I just came to deliver your groceries. When you didn't answer, I got worried. Theo said you couldn't leave your place," Blair babbled tilting his head back in hopes of preventing a few bald patches.

"Theo?" the man asked growled. "_You_ work for Theo?"

"_Yes_," Blair answered sarcastically. "_I_ work for Theo. Just started today, she's an old friend, knew I needed the money. Look, man, can I get up, you're killing me here."

"Sorry," the man said letting go with both hands at the same time.

Blair pushed himself up grimacing as his injured leg protested the abuse. He eased himself back down to sit on the coffee table.

"Did I hurt you?" the guy asked concern lining his face.

"Naw," Blair said with a wave, "old injury, well, not that old, still healing, but you didn't do it."

The man stared at him in disbelief then frowned. "How did you get in here?" he asked suspiciously.

Blair felt the blush cross his face. "Well, um, I couldn't get you to answer the door, so I thought I'd try the fire escape, at least see if I could see you, ya know. But the window are all covered," he paused and looked around. "It's a bit dark in here…"

"I like it this way," the man said glaring at the longhaired intruder.

"Okay. Anyway, I tried the back door there," he pointed down the hall, "and was able to jimmy it open. Hope I didn't break the lock, I'm not exactly used to doing that, but it's a good thing I did. Did you have a seizure? Should I call a doctor? You were like, totally gone, there for a while."

The man shook his head hastily and walked over to the phone. "You stay right there, I'm going to call Theo and verify your story. Don't move," he warned.

Blair grimaced. "Don't move," he parroted under his breath earning another glare from the big man.

"Hello? Theo? Yeah, it's Jim Ellison… oh… well, yeah. Could you describe him? Okay. Thanks Theo, I appreciate it. Bye."

_Ellison? Naw, can't be the same guy._ Blair stared at the man while he talked to Theo.

Ellison hung up the phone and came back over to the couch. Blair continued to stare in disbelief.

"Well, Chief, looks like you are who you say you are," Jim frowned. "What are you staring at?"

"You're Jim Ellison?"

"Yeah."

"Detective James Joseph Ellison?"

"Yeah," Jim repeated suspiciously.

"Man!" Blair exclaimed as he jumped up and started to pace favoring his injured leg. "I cannot believe this. This is just… Oh, man…"

Ellison sat down and ran his hand through his hair. "Mind letting me in on the secret, Sandburg?"

Blair spun to face Ellison. "I've been looking for you my whole life, man."

"Whoa…" Jim said putting his hands up defensively.

But Blair continued blithely. "I tried to meet up with you at the hospital about a month ago, but just missed you. I think you're the living embodiment of my field of study." The young man's eyes glowed with enthusiasm as he took a seat on the coffee table in front of Jim.

"The couch is for sitting on Chief," Jim grouched.

"Oh, sure," Blair said moving onto the couch, "sorry. You've been having trouble with your senses, right?" he continued without missing a beat. "Seeing things others can't, smelling, hearing… tasting things you shouldn't be able to? And your skin's extra sensitive to stuff, right?"

"How did you know I was at the hospital last month?" Jim asked guardedly. "How do you know these things?"

Blair grinned broadly. "I'm studying Sentinels, man, people like you who have enhanced senses. In pre-civilized tribes the Sentinel was a guardian, acting as lookout, monitoring the weather, movement of game, rival tribes…"

"Wait a minute, Teach," Jim said putting his hand on the younger man's arm to get his attention. "Are you saying that what's going on with me is _normal_? Other people have had this… condition?"

"It's not a 'condition' Ellison, it's who you are. You were born with these senses, but they probably went dormant for some reason, now they're back and you are a walking-talking crime lab, man," Blair explained excitedly.

Jim shook his head adamantly. "I'm a wreck, Sandburg. That little trance you found me in… those are happening more and more often. I can't work like that. I'm afraid to leave the loft for fear of blacking out while I'm driving."

The grad student sat back stunned. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were having so much trouble. But Jim, it's just a matter of learning to control your senses. Learning how to manage the input you're receiving. I could help you. If you want."

Ellison sat back. "You think?" He couldn't understand why he was even listening to this neo-hippie wanna-be. But Sandburg was the first person who'd offered any type of help that didn't consist of mind-altering medications. "How?"

"Well," Blair said thoughtfully, "we'd have to do some tests."

_Finis_

Feedback is ALWAYS appreciated.


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